


The “L”-Word

by DownOnThePharm



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Humor, M/M, Practical Jokes, Smeggers will be smeggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:12:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19099504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DownOnThePharm/pseuds/DownOnThePharm
Summary: Inspired by a discussion in the Red Dwarf Discord - Lister mucks about with Rimmer’s projection again, and Rimmer is not pleased.I banged this out in about twenty minutes instead of going to bed.  If it’s total smeg, I won’t be surprised.





	The “L”-Word

“LISTER!” Rimmer stormed out of the shower room and stomped over to where Lister and Cat were lounging on the sofa playing _Renegade Monks_.

“You make a better door than a window, Goalpost Head! Move so I can see the TV before I - aw, man!” Cat threw down his controller in a huff and glared at Rimmer. “I just died because of you! I hope you’re happy!”

“Shut up, moggy. Lister, what’s the meaning of this?” Rimmer pointed dramatically to his forehead, where, instead of his stylish blue H, he now sported a flaming red metallic L.

“You’re dripping all over the floor, man,” Lister observed. “Kryten will be seriously smegged off.”

“Lister...”, Rimmer growled warningly.

“What, the L?”

“Yes, the bloody L!”

“What about it?”

Rimmer’s face flushed nearly as red as his new letter, and his nostrils flared in fury. “What the smegging hell do you think, you goit? Where did it come from? Why do I have it? How many times do I have to tell you to leave my damn projection alone?”

Smirking, Lister replied, “You told me to leave your font alone. You didn’t say nothin’ about changing the letter.” He grinned impishly as Rimmer bared his teeth in an enraged snarl.

“Bloody buggering hell, you’re enough to drive me mad!”

“Short trip, Non-Bud,” Cat quipped. Lister high-fived him.

“Cat, shut up! Lister, let me rephrase this. Why in the name of the seven syphilitic whores of Mimas did you give me an L?” 

“Why not?”

Rimmer gritted his teeth so hard that Lister idly wondered if he would chip one, and what would happen if he did, and whether or not holograms could chip their teeth in any case.

“WHAT. DOES. IT. STAND. FOR?”

“Ooh, I know!”, Cat triumphantly piped up. “It means ‘LOSER!’” The felinoid not-so-helpfully illustrated his point by making an L on his own forehead with the finger and thumb of one elegantly manicured hand.

“Cat, yours is backwards.”

“Oh, yeah! Thanks, Bud!” Cat switched hands.

Rimmer silently stared at Cat for a moment, his expression wavering between fury and hurt. Abruptly, he spun on his heel without so much as a glance at Lister, and marched back into the shower room, slamming the door behind him hard enough to crack the frame. 

“Smeg,” Lister sighed. “Did you have to say that to him?”

“Yes?”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Yeah, but this was more fun!”

“Fun for you, maybe. You don’t have to deal with him now.”

“You’re right! That’s your job, Bud! Better get to it!”

Lister hauled himself up off of the sofa and went to the shower room door. He tested it, found it was unlocked, and gingerly pulled it open, eyeing the crack in the frame to be certain it wasn’t about to cause a catastrophic wall failure somehow. Poking his head into the shower room, he softly called, “Rimmer?”

The hologram was standing in front of the mirror, a crushed look on his face. He didn’t acknowledge Lister.

Lister slipped into the room and went to lay a hand on Rimmer’s shoulder. “Rimmer, I can explain.”

No answer. Rimmer just continued to stare at his reflection.

“Rimmer? Let me explain.”

“No need,” Rimmer finally answered sadly. “It’s obvious what you think of me.”

“Babe, no...”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Rimmer, it doesn’t mean what you think it does.” Lister tried again to touch the hologram, but Rimmer phased into soft-light before he could make contact.

“Don’t touch me.”

“It doesn’t mean ‘loser.’”

“I heard the Cat.”

“Since when did you start listening to him?”

“Since now.”

“Rimmer, I swear to you, it doesn’t mean ‘loser.’”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No. It means ‘Lister’s.’ It was a joke. I was claiming you.”

Rimmer slowly turned to face his partner. “‘Lister’s?’”

“Yeah.”

Rimmer mulled it over for a few minutes, while Lister squirmed uncomfortably. The hologram finally spoke. “That’s so incredibly stupid that I have to believe you. Only you could come up with something like that.”

Heaving a sigh of relief, Lister asked, almost timidly, “Are you OK, then?”

“I suppose,” Rimmer harrumphed, and phased back into hard-light. Lister immediately enveloped him in a bear hug. 

“I’m sorry, love,” Lister whispered as he buried his face in Rimmer’s neck. “I’ll fix it for you, yeah?”

“You will indeed, squire. Oh, and Listy?”

“What?”

“If you ever alter my projection again, you’ll find out firsthand what it’s like to be dead.”


End file.
